


Bad men can't love

by Dontmesswithmeihaveachair



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Angst AF, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crazy ex-boyfriend, Depressed Wilbur Soot, Dream is so deeply in love in george or is just freindship?, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Help, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Music, Jschlatt Being a Jerk (Video Blogging RPF), Karl would slap you if you mess with his boyfriends, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, No jokes, Polyamory, Secrets, The 80s AUAU (Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF), They're In Love Your Honor, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Toxic Relationship, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur sings, does he even appear, even more sass Sapnap, he would, idk - Freeform, idk about techno, it depends, lovebirds, mentions of dreamnotfound, no beta we die like men, no dnf, probably, sass george, they're a band, this isn't even my first language, tommy and tubbo are childhood friends, tommy and tubbo have a band
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dontmesswithmeihaveachair/pseuds/Dontmesswithmeihaveachair
Summary: Quackity saw him, and his whole world fell apart. He thought he had escaped his clutches, but here he was, bringing back his worst nightmares when Quackity had finally found his happiness.This time he wasn't going to let him go, even if it meant tearing his prey to pieces.Sadly, this time he wasn't alone.orQuackity has joined Dream Team's band, and his crazy ex-boyfriend shows up to finish him off, but his boyfriends are not gonna let him.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs, Alexis | Quackity & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Alexis | Quackity/Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 31
Kudos: 176





	1. Don't ask

**Author's Note:**

> So... 
> 
> Ironically, the first fic I upload is the one that does not even have a script when I have two others completely schematized. Very typical of me, too. Oh well.
> 
> This is set in the 80s in the US. George and Wilbur are still British and Quackity is Mexican tho.
> 
> Obviously, I mean the cc's personas from Dream SMP, although that does not stop being cringe. If any of them show disagreement about the content, I will remove it immediately.
> 
> Also, English is not my first language, so if there are any errors I would like you to tell me.
> 
> Peace out!

“What the fuck, Karl?” Quackity complained, looking at the result of Karl trying to paint his nails for an hour. It was so chaotic and colorful it could burn your retinas. _Like, for real_ \- _he used at least 25 different colors. How the fuck they have so many colors?_ “It looks like an epileptic unicorn got drunk on rainbows and Skittles and threw up in my hands.”

Karl burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hands, and fell to the pillows from his back. The nail polishes bounced on the bed with the sound of his laughter. Before any of them could fall, Sapnap caught them in flight. The grin on his face growing, victorious. After the hot candy incident, the last thing they wanted was for the trailer floor to be stained with something so stinky and... fluorescent.

“C’mon, Don't be such a brat. It can’t look that bad.” Quackity glared at him, raising a brow, and showed his hands. Sapnap chuckled and grabbed his wrists, pulling them closer to inspect the mess. 

The other man didn't put up a fight and rolled his eyes when his boyfriend started laughing in front of his face. “I take it back. This looks awful.” Sapnap laid his eyes on his other partner, who was wiping his tears from laughing. “What the hell happened, Karl?”

“Don’t look at me! Dream’s the one who’s driving!”

“Wait, now is MY fault?” Barked Dream from the driver's seat.

“Whatever, open the windows before the smell of acetone intoxicates us!” George begged before stuck his head out the window, trying to breathe fresh air. 

“Also, Quackity still looks awful and it's not because of a bad manicure. ” Dream wheezed, standing out amid the laughter of the rest of the boys. Quackity threw one of his shoes on the back of George's seat, annoyed.

“Fuck off, George!”

“So… you didn’t like it, babe?” Asked Karl, acting innocent as he settled down on the bed. He was still smiling, though.

Quackity snorted and got up, going to the cabinet where the acetone might be to remove the Dalí painting from his fingers. “No shit, Karl. There's no way I'm going on stage like this.” He grumbled, as he soaked a couple of cotton balls with the nail polish remover and rubbed them through his fingers, without much success. “Fuck!”

Sapnap took Quackity's place and tapped the space between his legs gently, intending for the boy to sit there. “C’mon, let us help you.” 

Quackity dropped there, like an elephant leaping into a spider's web to break it, and ended up snorting, too tired to complain. Karl and Sapnap said nothing more besides they divided the work between themselves.

“This is why I hate nail polish.” _Who the frick said this kid was going to shut up._

“Don’t worry, next time I'll let Karl paint my nails."

Suddenly, Karl lost all the color of his face, like he had seen a ghost. 

“We're out of black.” Whispered Karl, almost finishing the thumb and getting more cotton balls. 

“We’ll buy it at the next stop then.”

That was the last thing Quackity managed to distinguish from the conversation before dozed off; too comfortable due to the care of his partners and the heat of the rays of the midday sun. Sapnap quickly noticed, becoming the support that kept him seated. He didn't try to wake him up and did nothing but stood admiring his profile from his shoulder; he looked so calm like he had fallen into a deep, deep sleep.

A couple of hairs swayed in the breeze, framing the slight dark circles below his eyes, that were beginning to become deeply marked. Sapnap was well aware that Quackity was not sleeping too much lately. Yet, every time he asked him why, he only got evasive answers, which always ended in an argument between them and Karl trying to calm them down.

“Sapnap, do you- Oh.” Quackity frowned, almost woken up by the volume of Karl's voice. Sapnap put a finger to his own lips to warn him to be silent. The boy nodded, giving a small smirk. Touched, the southerner approached his boyfriend after connecting their lips in a soft and chaste kiss. One of his hands went to the nape of his neck, enjoying the contact. The older giggled and leaned more to him, feeling like he had fallen more for him. _Damn, they sure are a cheesy pair of lovebirds._

Curious about the sudden silence, George took a look, finding this corny scene. He turned to his partner, pretending to puke. 

_Luckily I wasn't the only one who thought this scene was a bit vomiting_. 

Dream snickered, shaking his head.

George picked up Quackity's shoe from his back, intending to throw it at the couple's heads. But, before he could do anything, Dream took his hand, still staring at the road. "Let Quackity rest, he's been driving all night."

George pouted, heeding his friend's advice. "Wasn't it supposed to be Sapnap's turn?"

"He was awake and offered in exchange for Sapnap." The driver received a rumble as an answer and listened to the boy straighten up in the seat after having taken a notebook from the glovebox.

Certainly, George was glad that he didn’t have a license because at least it saved him from keeping hours awake at night - especially if we take into account that he’s probably the one who sleeps the most. However, it was strange to him that Quackity offered himself since he’s the first to complain when it’s his turn. Or at least it had been since he joined them six months ago.

In the first place, the band consisted of him, Dream, Sapnap, and Karl. After a couple of shows, they had gotten some money, and Dream proposed to buy a caravan and go playing in different bars in the country. None refused, and in less than three months playing, they were already on the road.

Everything was going well at first - except the times when Karl and Sapnap got mellow and both Dream and George felt like an octopus in a garage. Because yeah, it was great that they were a couple, but there has to be a limit.

Despite that, not everything was always smooth; in the middle of the road, the caravan gave of itself. George would swear this was the hottest day of the year, but both Dream and Sapnap told him he was being dramatic. It was at that moment that they met Quackity, who was passing by that road by mere chance and decided to help them.

The group got along with their rescuer like a flash, and it only took a week for him to join them. Karl always says that if it hadn't been for him, they wouldn't have been able to convince him. The boy had a point; it was thanks to Quackity's crush on the American why he spent so much time with them.

But there was something that both George and Dream missed: if two lovers were bad, three were insufferable. There have been few times that both have wanted to jump out of the car in motion.

Miraculously, he, being the lead singer, was able to impart some authority over the lyrics. Because it was either that or pompous love songs for nine months. God praise George -and Dream of defending him.

Anyway, if he was honest, these were the best months of his life. Road trips, playing different bars and events, fans asking for autographs, seeing new cities or towns… all were new experiences that he knew he would treasure for the rest of his life -but, above all, be with your loved ones; his childhood friends, Dream and Sapnap; Karl, whom he had met a couple of years ago at a party; and Quackity, who had become very close to him very fast.

The Brit took a final breath, knowing that there was still a long way to go until success.

"Something’s wrong?" Dream asked, tapping his fingers on the surface of the steering wheel at a slow pace.

“Hmm...no. It’s nothing.” He responded, examining Dream’s figure. “I’m just tired. We have been on the road for a long time.” 

“Okay… how about we stop at the next gas station? So we can also refuel ”.

"Yeah, that would be great." George said vaguely, concentrating on scribbling something on the pages of the notebook. He was really grateful to Dream, even if he didn't show it too much. _I suppose it’s because he’s color blind._

Dream shifted nervously in his seat before reaching into his pocket. However, whatever he had there, he did not immediately deliver it; he squeezed it, then released it, and there was more than one time that he would simply withdraw his hand without intending to get out the object. But, after a couple of struggling minutes, he pulled it out, depositing it on George's thigh.

Surprised, George stopped what he was doing, and curiously inspected the thing on his lap. It was Dream's Walkman; he knew it because he had given it to him himself last Christmas. However, he did not recognize the cassette: it was an ordinary cassette, but in the center, it had a label attached, where <DnF> was written. _What would that mean?_

"What’s this?" George's smile was full of confusion and curiosity.

“They’re some songs that I have been doing. Most of them are only instrumental, and the lyrics aren’t the best, but I’d like to know what do you think. " Dream tapped the steering wheel harder, his nerves on edge. “Oh, but it's only on that face. The other was used by Quackity. " He added, spotting a traffic sign that indicated a gas station less than 3 yards away.

George gave an amused «oh». He was aware that Dream also liked to create his own lyrics, but he hadn’t been taught it until now. Obviously, George had no problem with that; after all, they each had their secrets, and he wasn't going to force Dream to share all of his thoughts with him, knowing that the other didn't either.

"Okay, I'll listen to her when I can and I'll tell you."

George thought he heard Dream mutter a «thank you», but if he did, he was muffled by the honking of the car's horn behind. _Such an asshole._

It had already been several hours since Quackity had woken up and arrived at their destination. At first, they thought of doing their routine every time they arrived in a city: find a place to park the caravan, decide between sleeping there or looking for a hotel, search for a bar or a place to play the next night, and practice all morning. That was supposed to be the plan.

But Quackity and his big mouth turned plans around. Of course, because he couldn't forget to mention that he knew a bar where Wilbur Soot usually played. _At least he didn't mention that he was an old friend of his._ Both Karl and Sapnap were excited and convinced the rest of the group to go there, even if they weren't playing.

Quackity regretted as hell having agreed.

The venue itself was small and cramped, with barely any space for four people on stage with their instruments. But every inch of the wall was brimming with memories of the boy. And not all of them were good.

Pogtopia's Bar was a bittersweet place for Wilbur, and later it would be for Quackity. After Wilbur's incident, the Brit became intensely depressed. Then, he ended up discovering this place with his brother, Tommy, when they move on. They played every day, to the point that everyone believed that they owned the place.

Blind as Quackity was, he tried to excuse his perpetrator's actions as an apology. But Wilbur and Tommy knew well that that was inexcusable.

As time passed, Wilbur's mental health only got worse, and, by the time Quackity really wanted to help him, it was too late. They had lost him, and Pogtopia's Bar was becoming his grave.

Thank goodness his father arrived in time before he did anything stupid again, and helped him develop his musical career - being the producer that he was. Like wildfire, Wilbur became successful; but both Quackity and the rest knew that he wasn’t the same.

No fan knew the truth. Everyone believed that the great Wilbur Soot, who had a stroke of luck, a talent scout, took off here. But those walls knew it well. They knew the tears and blood that had been shed, the screams, the sleepless nights, and the nights where only Wilbur's voice or Quackity's voice could be heard breaking when singing. The feelings were overflowing, and soon the boy wanted to break them, tear down the building. Destroy everything that reminded them of him.

Quackity squeezed the glass between his fingers, enraged by his train of thought. The bar was crowded, and more than once he noticed the friction of people trying to move from one place to another. Sapnap and Karl were glued to his back, listening girl's show who was singing a rock song that was not having much success with the public. Maybe it was since she was a girl, because the music was good.

An unfamiliar hand settled on Quackity's shoulder, making him come back to reality.

"You are Quackity, right?" He was about to refuse, but the stranger interrupted him before he could put up any opposition. "I remember you! You used to play alongside Wilbur! It's been a long time. Are you going to play tonight?"

The mere mention of the other musician attracted the glances of several people in the crowd, and among them, those of his own group. Quackity began to panic, and let out a nervous laugh.

"N-no, sorry, I've already stopped playing. I don't even have an instrument-"

"Don't worry! One of the musicians who played today is a friend of mine, he can lend you his keyboard."

"I…" Quackity turned around, meeting his mates' eyes. George and Dream looked at each other, not sure what to say. Karl looked at him concerned, with no idea what was going on. Sapnap was frowning, his dark eyes searching for answers.

The southerner opened his mouth, about to ask. Quackity knew he was going to ask, that he was going to inquire. He knew he would want to know the reason why he had lied.

But he wasn't going to tell him. He couldn't tell him. And giving in to the peer pressure, he agreed, following the stranger and walking away at a rapid pace from his friends. Sapnap screamed his name, but Quackity just ignored him as he made his way within the people.

Before he knew it, he was on the familiar stage. From the small platform, he could see countless heads watching him, waiting for him to start playing. Feeling his hands sweat, he wiped them on the sides of his pants.

The stranger who had recognized him approached him, handing to Quackity the keyboard with a smirk. "What are you going to play?" They ventured to ask, seeing the boy fidgeting.

"Don't ask"

Their eyes snapped open, not expecting that dry, salty response. "Oh sorry-" Realizing he had sounded like an asshole, Quackity cut him off, trying to make a reassuring smile. "I’m sorry, that's... the name of the song. Don't ask."

Relieved, his former fan nodded and wished him good luck before getting off and leaving him alone before the ravenous stares.

It's fine. _Everything_ is fine. He just has to play a song and that's it.

Yeah, that's easy.

_Is it?_

Sapnap's gaze was fixed on the back of his neck like a dagger. He could feel it, sharp, down his throat, almost taking his breath away before Quackity started to sing.

**_Long before we met I saw you under neon lights_ **

**_No time I was falling_ **

**_And I wonder if your shape could be melt with mine_ **

The murmurs stopped, now focused on the boy's voice. It felt like velvet, but the melody was drowned in heavy feelings. The pain was pretty clear, but the other emotion… _Nostalgia, perhaps?_

**_Tempting love on blurry Friday nights_ **

**_What is right or wrong_ **

Quackity didn't even know why he had chosen that song. It only appeared in his head, after he had buried it so long ago.

**_Don't ask why I can't have you, you can't have me_ **

**_Don't be shy I can't dare to let you go_ **

**_I don't know, I just go_ **

**_Oooh oh oh_ **

He tore his eyes away from the keyboard, tempted to know the faces they were making. But what he found was not who he expected. His face turned white as if he had seen a ghost. And he wished as anything it had been.

But it _wasn't._

**_I could risk it all betting on my life you'd run to me_ **

Quackity's fingers trembled, and he almost missed the keys. There he was, with that pernicious smile, as if he were a beast about to devour its prey.

And Quackity was focused enough on him that he could read his lips. Sharp words that stick like knives to his heart.

**_Your fingers on the trigger when I sleep_ **

**_I hope you dare to shoot_ **

He did. He recognized him. And he wasn't going to let him get away again.

Quackity couldn't see anything other than him -his fingers and his voice working out of sheer inertia. His vision was all dark except that smile. That dumb, _dumb_ smile.

**_Why_ **

**_Don't be shy_ **

**_Whispers in the dark_ **

He whispered the last words, as a silent tear fell down his cheek. His stomach was churning, a black hole installed in it. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He could not do anything: he was completely lost.

**"I found you."**

_"Schlatt"_ He let out on a strangled cry, barely being able to stand to the applause of the people...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this, you are amazing. Nobody reads the author's notes, tbh.
> 
> Wait, that doesn't make you amazing, it makes you a weirdo.
> 
> ...
> 
> But hey, getting back to the topic.
> 
> During this fanfic, I'll use many songs from Set It Off and Panic at the Disco, although both the title and today's chapter refer to the songs of Natalia Lacunza (highly recommended) "Don't ask" and "Bad men can't love".
> 
> About the Wilbur incident, I'll explain later, don't worry. Also, if you want me to write dreamnotfound, tell me, because it's not within my plans and I can still modify it. And I'm sorry for the quality, I haven't written in a long time and I've never done it in English, so if anyone wants to help me, they would be an angel. 
> 
> I think that's it, but I swear that if I'm forgetting something it's not a very strange thing coming from me. I'll just curse my brain for being the way it is for a bit and then cry. 
> 
> Peace out!


	2. House of memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap was angry and done with Quackity's silence, and he would look for answers no matter what. But how would his boyfriend react when he tries to uncover his secrets by force?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Crying in short chapter* 
> 
> In my defense, if I kept writing the rest of the chapter, it would be too long. 
> 
> Anyways, here we go.
> 
> Warning: there's (obviously) an argument, anxiety attack, some angst, George keeps falling asleep and being sass, and pain.
> 
> Peace out!

The silence was loud on the way back to the caravan.

Quackity had lost all will to speak, and his lips formed a fine line on his face. He hugged himself as he walked, staring at the ground. He was emaciated as if he had been suddenly beaten for months without sleeping or eating, eager to even make a noise when he breathed. A heavyweight had settled on his stomach, and he felt as if chains were dragging on his feet.  _ "The liar is sooner caught than the cripple", huh. _

Sapnap was angry. No, he was _ furious _ , practically fuming. Everything had been downhill since they had entered the bar. And he didn't even understand why. Why did he look so distressed inside the premises? Why did he say he stopped playing? Why did he hide the fact that he played before with Wilbur? What was it he had seen on stage that had made him so sick? Why was he not answering their questions?

Sapnap needed to be honest with himself: he wasn't angry, he was  _ frustrated _ . Because Quackity had so many secrets that he wasn't going to share. Because he kept putting a wall between his heart and his boyfriends.  _ Because Sapnap could have prevented him from looking like this. _

Why didn't he refuse?

Why didn't he explain what this place meant to him?

_ Why…? _

"Why didn't you say anything?" He whispered, dragging the letters and tensing his jaw. He stopped and turned, trying to meet Quackity's watery eyes, who was surprised by the sudden question and looked away. "Why!" The scream took everyone by surprise, and made Karl flinch, glaring at the two boys.

"Who cares? I have bad memories of the site, that's all. " Quackity spitted out, squeezing the fabric of his jacket between his fingers. But this answer only made Sapnap's blood boil.

"Guys-" Karl tried to stop them, but there was no going back.

"I care!" He said angrily, taking a step forward toward the weak figure of Quackity, whose patience had run out.

"Why?! Why do you care so much? Why are you making a mountain of this ?! " The older yelled, finally looking the other in the face, and adopting a defensive posture.

"It's too late, we should try to calm down and-" Once again Karl tried to calm the atmosphere, and was about to get in the way between them, but Dream stopped him by grabbing his arm. He knew well that blood would be shredded, and if Karl was involved, neither of them would forgive themselves.

"'CAUSE I LOVE YOU, DUMBASS." He snapped, not caring about waking up or annoy the people of the neighbourhood. Let them listen if they wanted, he already gave a shit. “I  _ care _ because  _ I _ love  _ you _ ! You don't have to get a degree to figure that out!"

And that was the last thing Quackity needed. Those words dug into his skin. They entwined themselves in a rope that was girded around his neck, hanging him. The strands wound painfully around his windpipe, and he couldn't think anymore. He just wanted to run away, run from there, escape his sentence. In that mist of feelings, his mouth let out a waterfall of words, letting go of his secrets with each word full of acid and poison.

"And what did you want me to tell you!? That I used to play with Wilbur until I betrayed him? That Wilbur almost killed himself because of me? That if it weren't for me, Wilbur would have gotten what he wanted? That I was so blind and naive that all I did was hurt my loved ones? That- That- ”Quackity fell to his knees in a thud, unable to stand any longer. He brought his hands to his face, noticing the tears that had spilled inadvertently. His head was spinning and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. His lungs were not filling enough. He needed help.  _ Someone… _

"Quackity, Quackity! Listen to me, I'm here, ‘kay? " Karl dropped to the ground immediately and stood in front of the boy. He took him by the shoulders, trying not to hound him. "Everything’s fine, allright?"

Sapnap, scared, knelt in front of Quackity, taking his hands smoothly. “Look at us, hon. Look at us and try to breathe with us, okay? " He whispered his sweet words, and began to breathe deeply along with Karl. “Come on, do it with us. Breathe in ... and expire ... "

It didn't take long for the boy's breathing to return to normal. Karl softly stroked his back, murmuring praises and honeyed nicknames.

Quackity's mind cleared, letting only the nausea and regret wash over his stomach. Letting out a groan, he began to cry uncontrollably.  _ This was all his fault. _

"I'msosorryI'msosorryI'msosorry-" His mumbles were cut off by Sapnap, who was wiping his tears with the cuff of his shirt. “It's okay, babe, it's okay. You don't need to apologize, it was my fault. I'm sorry."

Karl and Sapnap hugged him tightly - the brunette delivered soft kisses from his jaw to his shoulder, and the younger stroked the hair that stuck out at the nape of his neck, letting him soak into the fabric of his shoulder.

George and Dream stood to one side, observing the scene and not being able to participate in it. It was none of his business. After all, they had to respect the boundaries of the couple. However, that didn't prevent it from leaving a bitter taste in their mouths.

For the rest of the way, Quackity was carried by Sapnap, and then laid on the bed next to Karl, not saying a word. Dream told George that he had decided to stay awake a little longer with Sapnap, so he could go to bed before him. And although George didn't much like the idea of little sleep, George agreed to accompany them.

Sapnap sat in the open door of the trailer, staring at the ground between his legs, while his two childhood friends stood leaning against the wall. George had a bottle of water in his hands, which he sipped from time to time to avoid falling asleep.

"I've acted like a real jerk," he said, after almost half an hour in silence.

"Without a doubt"  _ Apparently today George got up and decided to be an ass. _ Dream glanced at him, reprimanding him. George sighed, resigned. "But you better act like one and not be one."  _ Well that's a little better. _

Dream sighed, shaking his head. "What happened?" He asked. Sapnap lifted his head, an eyebrow raised at the obviousness.

"I don't know, it's not like you've been there."  _ Oh yeah, Sassnap has awakened.  _

"Like, I saw the both of you argue, but you were never so ... exalted." George ended up resting his head on Dream's shoulder, the dream was already hitting him too hard. The other said nothing. "What was wrong with you?"

The southerner refused to answer immediately, feeling his stomach spin. That was a really heavy emotion: helplessness, the frustration of not knowing what was going on, to feel apart. Was him that unreliable? 

“If it hadn't been for me, we probably wouldn't have gone there and none of this would have happened. I'd have to-"

Sapnap stopped abruptly, thinking he heard something inside the car, like a soft hiss, or muffled words. He peeked into the vehicle. The inside was dark, and it was quite a bit warmer than outside. The soft light of the streetlights sneaking between the curtains illuminated the figure of the two boys who were sleeping peacefully. Quackity had buried his head in Karl's chest, who was holding him tightly. Their legs, covered by a soft sheet, were entwined.

Although Sapnap saw that scene every day, he felt his heart melt with tenderness. But the thorns of the fight dug hard deep into his thoughts.

"Saaaaaaaap" Karl's voice was just a drowsy whisper, barely audible. Still, Sapnap heard him and decided to get closer to find out if he was talking in his sleep or he really needed him for something. 

Tentatively, and stealthy as a cat, he dodged the corner of the counter, taking only a couple of steps to find himself next to the couple. From there he could see them better: Karl was wide awake, gently stroking Quackity's scalp, never taking his eyes off his agitated face. The sleeping boy kept moaning in pain and crying, squeezing the fabric of Karl's shirt between his fingers until his knuckles were white.

_ Quackity was having a nightmare. _

"Did you call me, babe?" He questioned in a breath, as he got on his knees next to the bed. His heart was breaking apart, and soon his eyes were close to tears. But he did not shed any tears -he couldn't. 

Karl turned his head gently, meeting the concerned gaze of his partner - the haze of sleep beginning to weigh under his lids. "Come to bed. It's too late and it's already cold for you to be out. " A lazy hand ventured to rest on Sapnap's cheek, cupping his face in an affectionate gesture. He knew perfectly well what the other was thinking. "Besides, Q needs you more by his side and not blaming you for things from the past, nimrod."

Through the gloom, Sapnap could see Karl's smile, and couldn't help but kiss him, agreeing to his boyfriend's reasonable request. "‘ Kay, 'kay. I'll be right back, but you've to go to sleep. "

Karl nodded, satisfied, and returned to his previous position.

The raven got up and walked back to the door, finding Dream picking up the sleeping George and about to enter.

"Oh come on! Is he some kind of groundhog or what?" He complained and reached out to poke the Brit's cheek. Obviously, he started to complain and wriggle in Dream's arms.

"Leave him alone, you're going to make me drop him." Dream staggered, trying to keep his balance as a laugh escaped his lips. In his past life he had to be a trapeze artist, because he was successfully dodging Sapnap's attacks. "Sapnap!"

"Okay, okay. What a killjoy."

Sapnap stepped out of the way, and once Dream and George were inside, he closed the door behind them. With great care  _ -and a miracle- _ Dream managed to get the colorblind onto the bed above the seats, and grabbed one of the many T-shirts that were stacked in the closet, passing another to Sapnap. He laughed when the other caught it with his face. After chuckles and revenge in the form of teasing with the shirts, both boys were changed and prepared to sleep.

"Sapnap" The named boy was passing over his boyfriends to reach the gap they had left between the bottom of the caravan and Quackity, when he turned to see what Dream wanted. “I know Karl'll have told you by now, but it's not your fault. You couldn't have known. Stop torturing yourself. "

He couldn't see very well, but he knew that the blonde had already climbed onto the bed, and was probably pulling George's covers off so he could cover himself. But George was evidently not going to quit. They decided to sleep together, so they had no right to complain either.

"Night, Dream"

"Did you-" Whatever Dream was going to say, was cut off by George's whispered yell, causing the other two boys to jump in shock.

"Oh shut the fuck up, there're people sleepin'!"

“What- were you awake? since when?" Sapnap propped an elbow on the mattress to lift his upper body and get a better view of the other boy's irritated face.  _ Like he could get a better view when everything is so freaking dark. _

"Does it matter? Just shut up and go to sleep at once. He growled and turned to face the wall, with no intention of continuing the conversation.

Sapnap rolled his eyes and laid down, feeling the weariness of the long day in his bones. 

He was about to pass out when a warm hand grabbed his and pulled, forcing the raven to stick to Quackity, spooning. His question lingered in his throat as the shorter silenced him. That was all he needed.

"Lov' ya" He finished saying in Quackity's ear, smiling subtly.

“Mhmnn… me too.” Answered peacefully. 

And it felt **good** , because it wasn't like before. There was nothing to worry about or be afraid of. There's just this warm feeling, soft and kind. It was strong, and he could feel it in every _touch_ , every _look_ , every _word_...

It was **okay** because it was **them** and not _him_.

**_Those thoughts of past lovers_ **

**_They'll always haunt me_ **

**_I wish I could believe_ **

**_You'd never wrong me_ **

**_Then will you remember me_ **

**_in the same way_ **

**_As I remember you_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heloda, weirdos who have enough time to read the author's notes. I came here to thank everyone who read this somehow fanfic and who commented (and the kudos, too). If I have posted this so fast is thank to you, so, thank you, (lmao) 
> 
> As always, I'm sorry for the mistakes, not my first language, still looking for friends to help me out. 
> 
> Today's song is one of my favorites, if not the most: House of memories from Panic at the Disco!. This time this song is from Quackity for his lovers; he loves them too much, but he's still suffering from his past relationship that he doesn't want to talk about because he doesn't want their pity *sadness and pain*. Maybe is one of my favorites because I feel identified with it? Who knows. 
> 
> Back to the point, next chapter is going to be better, I promise! It will be more lovely-dovey and more interactions between Quackity-Sapnap and Quackity-Karl. And drama. Always drama. 
> 
> How are you feeling, btw? Have you cried enough for Tommy? And what abt Sam Nook, huh? 
> 
> Also, how you feel about me making Quackity talk in Spanish in the next chapters? I really want to, but i want to know your opinion before. 
> 
> pd: Go and watch Friccafracc on tiktok or yt if you're Sapnap starved. 
> 
> Peace out!


	3. Let's kill tonight (experience)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quackity decided to tell Sapnap's what happened with Wilbur and that bar, but, in the moment he overcomes his fears, something worse happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so damn late, damn. The things I do for you. 
> 
> Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, abuse, and breakdown. 
> 
> I recommend to listen experience from Ludovico Einaudi as reading Sapnap's and Quackity conversation. 
> 
> Peace out!

"What you think?"

"Huh?" Quackity looked away from the ground, and stared at Karl, who was walking beside him, smiling as always. "What?"

“About the contest. Probably a producer will go! Wouldn't that be great? " The older's excitement was palpable —as he walked, he jumped and balanced bags of freshly cleaned laundry. Karl had been whistling and humming various songs all the way; every once in a while, Quackity would join him, but it didn't last beyond a couple of minutes before zoned out.

"Hm. Yeah. " He answered vaguely before continuing to look ahead, not paying much attention to the sidewalk.

Karl acted like he didn't care, but he was aware that from the moment George and Dream found the contest advertisement, the boy looked concerned. Karl would like to ask him what's going on, but he was too scared that the same scene from a week ago would happen. The brunette's heart hurted at the memory —Sapnap and Quackity hadn’t yet spoken about what happened, and although they continued acting as usual, the older one knew well that they should- no, they needed to fix each other.

They had almost reached their destination when Karl stopped Quackity with one hand, standing still in the middle of a slightly crowded street. Scared, the boy stopped short and turned to his partner, returning to his normal face. _Bad signal. Why had he been scared? It's just Karl._

Serious as ever, the brunette looked the other straight in the eye —he was silent for a moment, searching for the right words. But he couldn't find them. What should he say? What couldn't he ask? If what he says affects the other so much, _why did Karl not have any positive effect when he tries to help?_

He watched at Quackity's hand, which was red from carrying the handle of the heavy bag. 

He loved Quackity. He wanted to tell him that everything was going to be fine, that what he says mathers, that he was important ... but the boy would only avoid the subject, uncomfortable by the seriousness of Karl's words. Karl wanted to see him smile. _Smile for real, with all his energy_. He wanted to feel those playful aroused eyes that ate him when they were alone. He wanted to feel his hugs, his kisses. He wanted him to be radiant like the sun, and happy like no one else.

Preoccupied by his boyfriend's sudden dejected expression, Quackity placed the handbags in his other hand, and moved closer to him, setting his hand on the other's arm. "Karl?"

Karl flinched, getting Quackity's distressed eyes. No, not that look. He wasn't the one who was having a hard time. He couldn't become a burden to Quackity either. He ran his fingers through his bangs, tousling it so he could give a nervous laugh. "I -... um, can I hold your hand?" He said, forcing a twisted smile.

Without hesitating a second, he took Karl's hand. “Sure you do, babe. You don't have to ask me. "

"Mhm..." That felt warn in both, his fingers and his heart. He could cry with happiness there and now. But he wasn't going to, so he just kept walking, this time at a slower pace. "I like it when you use pet names."

A wicked smile formed on Quackity's lips before he began to whisper in Karl's ear. "Ooh? So you like it when I call you sweetie, sugar, cutie pie… ” The brunette's face turned three shades redder, and he couldn't do anything but keep giggling, trying to cover his embarrassment, which made Quackity want to continue. "Lover boy, sweetheart, babe, hermoso¹..."

"Shhh Quackity." He tried to silence him, avoiding his gaze and picking up the pace. But Quackity didn't stop, pressing his lips closer to his ear and squeezing Karl's hand so he couldn't let go.

"Pumpkin ..."

"Shut up-" he trembled, Quackity's voice barely a sound.

"Hot stuff ..."

"Stop-" The blush adorned even his ears, which felt hot under the breath of his boyfriend. He sighed in relief when there were only a few steps left to get home.

"Guapito²." 

"Quackity!" He screamed, looking desperately into the boy's eyes before Quackity pounced on him. The shorter dropped the bags and brought his lips together, stamping Karl's back against the wall of the trailer with a bang. The kiss, which started out as a surprise, turned slow and loving. Karl, beginning to melt at the contact, closed his eyes to maximize the sensation, taking one last image of the other's flushed and smiling face.

Quackity's hands took Karl's head to cup it, thus deepening the kiss. The brunet whined, feeling the breathlessness make his head blank, and had to put a hand on Quackity's shoulder to keep himself up.

"No, what I'm saying is- Iugh." George, who apparently had already returned with Dream from getting information of the contest, had gone out to find out what had hit the car, discovering this scene. Clearly, finding his two kissing hard wasn't on the top of things he loves. _Neither is it in mine, for real._

Quackity and Karl splitted almost immediately, incandescent red decorating their faces. "Guys, please. You're _literally_ in the middle of the parking lot." It was miraculously empty though.

"What 's going on?" Sapnap could be heard yelling from inside, while George continued to complain and went back inside the vehicle.

"Your boyfriends making out, that's what's going on." 

"Without me!?" 

"L." Dream said, before both Quackity and Karl burst into laughter and Sapnap screamed something back at him. Well, getting caught red-handed wasn't hot. Not at all.

"That was _your_ fault," Quackity said in a playful voice as he picked up the bags from the floor and agitated them clean. Karl opened his mouth, forming a perfect «O».

"HOW!?" He yelled, following the other to the door.

"Your expression was too adorable."

The loud chuckle flooded Quackity's ears, who couldn't help but laugh back at how cheesy it had sounded. "Shutup." Karl walked in and put his bags on the table, where Sapnap and Dream were arguing about who knows what.

"Make me!" He replied, raising his eyebrows as he put the clothes in the closet. Sapnap decided to join the flirting, turning his body in the direction of the shorter.

"You know _damn well_ that I can shut you up very quickly, Quackity. Don't tempt me."

Dream wheezed, seeing George's disgusting face - trying to mask his laughter - in the passenger seat, searching for something in the glove compartment. Karl also giggled alongside his partners for several seconds, until the sound slowly died away.

" _See_ , George? This could be you and me, but you don't want to."

The colorblind rolled his eyes, ignoring the protests as he found the shopping list in his notebook.

"Whose turn is it to go buy food?" He asked him out loud, balancing the paper over his head. Nobody said anything. And it’s not that they didn’t like that task, but because they didn’t have the remote idea whose turn was. The squeak of the seat indicated that Sapnap had risen, snatching the list from George's hand.

"Me, I think so." He read a couple of squiggles without much interest - not that dream's handwriting was horrible, but it looked like he had made it with his left arm at the same time he hopped on one foot and did cartwheels. _What the hell, it was barely legible._

It wasn't too much food, but he might need an extra hand. "Does anyone want to accompany me?" Sapnap wasn't going to stand still for an answer: as soon as he asked, he reached for his jacket, which was spread out on the queen-size bed in the back. Inside it, was his wallet. It was a piece of black leather that Karl gave him for his anniversary, and although he treated it as the most precious thing, it was already slightly worn, including the smile that Dream drew with a white marker long ago. He checked that he had enough money, when something fell from inside.

Quackity, who was less than a foot from him, picked it up from the ground: it was a photograph. Well, it wasn't just any photograph: it was a photograph of him, Karl, and Sapnap together, right after a concert. The boy smiled at the memory of the moment - it was shortly after he agreed to go out with Karl and Sapnap. They just ended playing, and the audience roared with excitement. They had loved their performance, no doubt. As they got off the stage, a girl approached them to ask if she could take a picture of them, to which Quackity, Karl and Sapnap happily agreed. But then Dream and George came down, and they wanted to join, so they asked her to take a second photo, this time with all of the friends together. When the band were going to go back, Karl told them to go ahead because he was going to take something that he had forgotten. It turns out that the something was the photo where the three of them were -he had returned to ask the girl for the photo, and thus have «a couple photo».Quackity could never forget the bright smile he wore as he ran towards them with it. _Damn, he really had fallen for him._

"I don't mind-" Karl offered, but his voice was quickly drowned out by Quackity.

"Me!" They all turned to look at him for that high-pitched scream. The boy cleared his throat, establishing his normal tone. "I'm going with you. And they can go practice, right? " Quackity offered him a smile as he returned the photo.

You didn't have to be very smart to realize that this was just an excuse for the two of them to be together. George met Dream's gaze, raising an eyebrow, and returned to Quackity, his tone very confident. "Well, isn't that such a bad plan. Sapnap?"

"Yeah, no problem." If that's what he wanted, there was no reason to refuse. The youngest kept the photo in the wallet, and put it on his jacket before walking out the door with Quackity. _Obviously, it's not like they were going to get out through the window._ "See ya."

"See ya later" Dream replied as the throuple sent each other goodbye kisses.

Silence made its presence within the caravan, a thick fog of concern enveloping the three friends. Somewhat awkward, Dream turned to Karl, who was turning his back to him, still staring at the door. "Karl, are you okay?" Karl rolled his eyes at him, confused. "Wouldn't you rather have gone with them?"

"It's fine." The corners of the older man's smile relaxed, showing a serene, completely calm face. “I trust them. Besides, after the fight they had, I probably want to talk to him sooner than to me. " That doesn't mean he didn't hurt him. He also wanted to be his support, someone he trusted, and not just love.

_No, everything’s fine. He wasn’t worthless. Things are just complicated._

_Yeah, that 's it..._

George also prepared to go out and get the instruments, when he reached into his trouser pocket, noticing something. Carefully he pulled it out: it was Dream's Walkman. After everything that had happened, he hadn't found a free moment to listen to him quietly. He should hear it as fast as possible, to be honest. But there was something about the voice Dream told him that made him want to take it seriously. And so he was going to do it. "Trust, huh?" He whispered to him, gently stroking his fingers over the dial.

Quackity crossed his arms in front of his chest, but it was too uncomfortable to walk like that, so he released his arms, bounced them, wiped his hands of sweat, and finally put his hand to his lips, considering whether or not to bite his nails. _He had been an idiot._ He shouldn't have been so excited. He needn't have acted so impulsively. Now they would have to talk, because he had behaved strangely. He really wanted to talk, but should he? No, he shouldn't. What would Sapnap think? what-

Sapnap took his hand, gently pulling it away from his face, his fingers just brushing his skin. “Quackity, we don't have to talk if you don't want to. It's okay. " The smaller raised his face, caught in the sympathetic gaze of his partner. He wasn't particularly smiling, but his expression was calm, his warm eyes staring at him as if he were the most precious treasure in the world.

"No, it's not okay. I want… I would like to talk to you about something. " Sapnap nodded slowly, and scanned around him, looking for somewhere where they could be more… private. After weighing the possibilities, he leaned into a narrow alley, guiding Quackity with his hand.

However, a glance and a moment of security was not going to miraculously make Quackity overcome his nerves and be able to open fully. No, this isn’t how anxiety works. Now that they were relatively alone, it was even worse. But it was okay, Sapnap could wait patiently. _And_ _patience is what he was going to need._

For a few exhaustive minutes, Quackity dedicated himself to finding the right words, counting the god knows how many stains on the wall, shifting the weight of his body from one foot to the other, and finally deciding to rest his back on the so ' _clean_ ' wall, opposite Sapnap.

"I, um ..." he began, starting to play with his thumbs, unable to fix his gaze on his partner. The anxiety woke up again, appearing like ants crawling under his skin. It was a tortuous and incessant tingling, forcing him to move, to fight him to regain control, which made it worse. He felt like he was on fire, like he'd been put in a kettle and simmered. "No, I-" Hundreds, if not thousands, of voices spoke, shouted, fought in his head, not allowing him to think correctly, much less, calm down. "Ugh." His stomach began to ache, as if someone had removed it without anesthesia and exchanged it for an incandescent stone. _He felt out of his body, and at the same time, he felt more than ever._

Two hands slid into his focus of vision: Sapnap lent him his hands, too concerned to see how Quackity was beginning to abuse his own fingers in his fight for control. "Quackity, honey, I'm here."

Yes, he was there. _Physically at least._

But that wasn't his point; Sapnap was reminding him that he was not alone, that he did not have to fight alone. Quackity took a deep breath, swallowing the bitterness of his thoughts. 

It's fine, it's _fine_.

He shyly took the hands that he offered, squeezing them into his nails, and massaging them with his fingertips, tickling. He didn't care what he did; Sapnap didn’t complain, nor did he push them away. Ah, Quackity could cry. "Can I-" his voice broke, and he swallowed hard to sound less brittle and stifled. He could do it, little by little. "Sorry but… can I hug you?"

The southerner didn't think twice. Delicately, he tugged on his arms and caught Quackity's body in a tight hug that Quackity didn't take long to reciprocate. He could feel the homey warmth of the boy through the layers of clothing, and hungry for affection, he tucked his arms under his jacket, entwining them around Sapnap's back. And it was like breathing fresh air for the first time: as if they were two pieces that fit together perfectly. He was complete _. It was good._

Sapnap made circles on his back, sometimes other geometric shapes, and every now and then he simply ran his palm up and down, like a child on the beach, erasing his work in the sand, ready to do another much amazing thing. Quackity gave a small laugh at the image. Sapnap as a child? He would surely be the most adorable thing in the world.

“Wilbur and I met at the conservatory.” He began, obviously much calmer. Sapnap continued the caresses, silently.

≫ I usually just went, practiced and left. I liked the piano, but it hadn't become my passion. Or at least it was until I met Wilbur. Wilbur liked - no, he was passionate about music. Or at least any music but classical. Every time he had a moment, he would compose his own works. Somehow we became friends, and one day he threw a keyboard at me and spat at me «We're going to be a band». Like that. Out of nowhere.

Quackity chuckled sweetly on Sapnap's shoulder. How young he was at the time. _And how naive he was._

"And so we formed our band. Me, him, Tommy and Wilbur’s friend. For a while we would play in some bars, compose our own songs, and hang out together. However, that happiness didn’t last long; It all went downhill when Wilbur found out about a music contest, in which the jury was made up of famous record labels. It was a good opportunity. Who would refuse? The downside was that it was held in another city; but Wilbur and his blind trust emboldened us to move there, carrying whatever our bags could collect.

≫ But one day Wilbur and Sh- his friend argued, and Wilbur decided to split up the band. Tommy went with him, and I, being an idiot, went with his friend. However, I and Wilbur continue to talk to each other. One day he showed me the sheet music for his new song: it was a masterpiece, Sapnap. I promise you that I haven't heard any song more beautiful than that. He called it L ’Manberg. Wilbur and Tommy's most beautiful symphony, L’Manberg.

≫But he hadn't finished it yet, saying he still had some details to polish. By accident, I took it home. And that was the biggest mistake I made.

A sob interrupted the tale, Quackity shedding her tears on his jacket. "Quackity, it's okay, it's okay." Delicate kisses fell on the older man's neck, with a tenderness that would melt the coldest heart. "What happened?"

“At that time I was living with his friend in the same house. I ... had fallen madly in love with him. And in love as I was, I followed him everywhere.

**No matter how he treated me.**

≫That day we had a fight, and I locked myself in the bathroom all night.

**To stop him from hitting me again.**

≫I think it was at that moment that he saw the song. But he didn't tell me about it, and the next day I went to give it back to Wilbur, unawarer. The days passed, and the day of the contest arrived. There was only one participant left before Wilbur and Tommy's turn, who were both excited and terrified. And who was that participant? To everyone's surprise, Wilbur's friend, and Tubbo's best friend, representing Manberg, an exact copy of L'Manberg, but that he had modified so that all the beauty of the symphony was corrupted, and left you goosebumps. If L’Manberg was the most beautiful song I had ever heard, Manberg was the most vivid representation of terror.

≫That… tyrant had tricked Tubbo into helping him play his song, along with Fundy, taking advantage of the little communication we had between us since we moved. Hundreds of people accused Will of plagiarism, while his friend signed numerous contracts, tying Tubbo to him. Tommy and Wilbur were unable to continue living there, and after a while, when the veil of love was lifted from my eyes, I also left.

≫Tommy rejected me completely, knowing that the only person who knew about the symphony, apart from him and his brother, was me. Wilbur couldn't forgive me immediately either, and the only way I could see him was when he played at that bar. And I could see it, Sapnap, I promise you I could see how every miserable day Wilbur looked worse, more depressed, less like him. His skin was losing its color, the dark circles were hollowing his eyes, and his smile was no longer the same. And then the accident happened.

Quackity trembled, squeezing the fabric between his fingers, searching for enough strength to continue the story.

“He… He was found by Tommy in time, but it was a very hard time for him. For us. That bar… That bar was Wilbur's bloody grave, and Wilbur knew it. He was willing to die there, die playing the song that he never managed to finish.

_He couldn’t_. He couldn't keep going. It was too much. He was talking too much and Sapnap- Sapnap- was going to blame him, he was going to hate him. Who would not? Later, if it weren't for him, if it weren't for that stupid mistake. _If he weren't so stupid_ -

“Quackity, calm down. It wasn't your fault, okay? It was not your fault." Sapnap tightened his embrace, not suffocating him, but keeping Quackity from falling to the ground when he lost all of his strength, breaking down in tears.

“Philza ... His father arrived in time to take him away and help him. But he wasn’t the same. He was not the jolly Wilbur I once knew. He was not the passionate Wilbur who wrote song lyrics in the corners of the notebooks. He wasn't crazy Wilbur planning a whole move looking for a shot at stardom. And it was my fault. It was my fault, all my damn fault… "

“Shhhhh ... It wasn't, Quackity. It wasn't your fault that degenerate took advantage of you. It's not your fault, it never has been. "

Quackity was going to reply, but he couldn't: he had been reduced to a bundle of snot and tears, of sobs and screams. Of pain, guilt, anger, regret… And so he let go of everything that was trapped in his heart for a long time, until his voice became raspy, and his eyes could not shed another tear. The southerner whispered nothings, without letting go, and without stopping listening to him. His heart clenched furiously. How, such a sweet boy, could he suffer like this? How did he manage to smile, laugh and act like nothing? _How_?

It took minutes, or hours, until Quackity was back to normal. He didn't let go, though, and Sapnap didn't stop comforting him, far from it.

"Don't you dislike me?" He ventured to whisper, doubt eating away at his thoughts.

**"I have never loved you so much before."**

"Then what are you thinking about?" The silence grew so strong that he began to stab Quackity as the caresses also stopped, and Sapnap's arms fell to his sides. "Sapnap?"

With hardly any pressure, the youngest took the shorter by the shoulders, pulling him slightly away from him so that he could see his face in front of him. His eyes were swollen, like his face, and there were still tear marks on his cheeks. His pupils had been fixed on Sapnap's, attentive to any movement, and his cap was slightly crooked. The sweatshirt he was wearing, Karl's favorite, had deep wrinkles, a complete mess. Panic was etched into his expression until Sapnap cupped his head in his hands, and pulled him close to kiss his forehead.

"I'm so proud of you." His lips gently brushed the swollen lids. "I'm glad that I met you." he continued with the journey of kisses until he reached his lips, joining them in a tender dance, hardly pressing, as if touching them was enough to knock the boy down. And it certainly was, because Quackity trembled between his fingers like a candle flame blowing out. " Te amo³."

He left the last push Quackity needed. His heart, which felt lighter after having lifted such a weight, jumped from the purest of joys. He could almost feel the same butterflies in his stomach as when he saw Sapnap and Karl.

"Thanks." His fingers played with the tickling dark hair, sighing a moan before parting with the most beautiful of his smiles. "Pero yo me enamoré antes.⁴"

They stayed that way, looking into each other's eyes, until Sapnap began to laugh out loud. "I'm sorry, it's just-" The contagious laugh affected Quackity, who was still waiting to know why.

"What?"

"When they see us they'll think we've fucked _that bad-_ "

Quackity laughed so hard that he began to believe that he would lose his voice. So strong that he was going to break his laugh box, almost.

"Sapnap! don’t make fun of my condition! "

I would like to say that this is the end of the story. That the couple, completely forgetting that they had to buy, went to the industrial warehouse that they had borrowed to be able to practice. It would be an honor to say that Quackity managed to have the courage to tell Karl, that Karl also opened up and explained how he felt apart, and that Dream and George became a couple because that is what the whole fandom likes. And finally, everything would end with a happy ending, in which they won the contest and became famous, millionaires, and happy.

But at this point, if you have not realized that I am the type of author who loves to torture his characters, and above all, to be realistic, you have to be very blind. You still have time, you can go in peace with this kind of ending. However, if you are not satisfied, I invite you to continue. And bring tissues.

Although it is true that Quackity and Sapnap returned without making the purchase, I could not say that it is entirely true that they were all happy.

The pair were fooling around on their way to where the others were, and Sapnap was about to enter when they heard music. And of course, it is normal to listen to music when they are a marching band. But what scared Quackity was not the soundtrack, but the voice he sang, loud and vindictive.

_**May your feet serve you well** _

_**And the rest be sent to Hell** _

_**Where they always have belonged** _

Oh, Quackity knew that voice well. He knew it so well that even with his eyes closed he could know perfectly who it belonged to.

_**Fate will play us out** _

_**With a song of pure romance** _

_**So stomp your feet and clap your hands** _

The boy could swear that he felt like he was being chained to hell, as if a snake was wrapping itself around his neck, ready to poison him, as Sapnap opened the door, revealing his fearsome figure.

_**Let 's kill tonight!** _

_**Kill tonight!** _

_**Show them all you're not the ordinary type** _

_**Let 's kill tonight!** _

_**Kill tonight**_!

“You are finally here! I want to introduce you to someone. " Dream exclaimed happily, putting aside his instrument to stand next to the uniformed man. "He's Schaltt."

_He already knew who he was._

"He owns a famous record label, and apparently he has heard us play these last few days in the bar."

_Oh no._

"And-"

"And I would like to sign a contract with you." Schaltt interrupted, smug as he always was. With that wicked smile plastered to his face, he held out his hand to Quackity, who had turned three shades white, and was unable to move from the spot. "Nice to meet you."

**Forewarned is forearmed**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my fellow weirdos. You know that I call all of you weirdos but I lov you'all, isn't it? 
> 
> Well, this was an intense chapter, or at least for me. The song is again, from Panic at the Disco! "Let's kill tonight.", and it came from Schaltt to Quackity, trying to make him think that the one who was terrible was Quackity, and not him. Oh yeah. 
> 
> Also, the words that are in italic when Quackity's explaining his past are his thoughts. That means that Sapnap have not idea abt the abuse that Quackity went through, and much less the type of relationship. Oh yeah. Pain for you'all. 
> 
> Also, Karl feels like he's third wheeling lmao. 
> 
> Please, look at that walkman, it's really interesting. 
> 
> Finally, the translation: 
> 
> Hermoso: beautiful, pretty, handsome... 
> 
> Guapito: beautiful, pretty, handsome... But it has a lovely tone, it's used to express beauty to someone you likes. More or less. 
> 
> Te amo: this is one of my favorites. It means I love you, but in a really deep way. They doesn't only loves you, you're the love of their life. 
> 
> Pero yo me enamoré antes: «but I loved you before you.» that's pretty clear. 
> 
> Anyways, I have a Twitter account were you post the drawings abt the fanfic and my shenanigans, you should check it out. 
> 
> https://twitter.com/haventachairtho?s=09
> 
> Last thing. Guys, be safe. Drink a lot of water and eat properly. And I know that I'm writing so much abt anxiety and depression, but it doesn't mean that I'm going to romanticize it; depression it's not something that you should play with, and much less think that's romantic, because it's a burden, a great pain, and something that makes people suffer. For real. No jokes. 
> 
> And telling from experience, don't just treat people like shit just because they're not feeling well. That's messed up. 
> 
> That's all, I think. I'm really thankful of the comments and the kudos, really. I had a rough week and all the support is making me want to keep going. And wanting to make more of the fanfics that I have scripted. What do you think abt this chapter? Any mistakes? I'll check out the messages as son as possible. 
> 
> Thank you, guys. You're awesome, don't forget that. 
> 
> Peace out!


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